


Cheek to Cheek

by AzureTiger



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Thor is Not Stupid (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureTiger/pseuds/AzureTiger
Summary: Steve has the Christmas Blues. Thor is a lot smarter than he looks. Sometimes you need to pull yourself up by the bootstraps, and sometimes you need a little help.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Thor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 57





	Cheek to Cheek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinderellasfella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderellasfella/gifts).



> This is a gift for my friend cinderallasfella! Thank you for your support of my work as always, writing and drawing alike <3
> 
> Fair warning, there is some sex in the middle, but you can skip it if you like. I don't normally focus on that as a major story element, but I thought it would be fun to try! Feedback related to that, or anything, is always welcome! Thank you as always for the feedback and love you've all given me throughout the year. Y'all make this 10x more fun <33
> 
> And, of course, more stories to come. I've got lots of stuff brewing. But for now, enjoy!
> 
> Merry Christmas!

Steve goes to bed on Christmas Eve depressed. 

Which is stupid, because he lives in luxury, surrounded by friends, and is in perfect health. What could the pinnacle of human strength ever have to complain about? _Chin-up, soldier._ He wraps himself in several layers of duvet and shuts his eyes. While snow peacefully falls past the window, he dreams of the forties. 

This is by no means the first time he’s dreamt of the train, of Bucky’s hand reaching out, fingers just about touching Steve’s for a second before the railing breaks and he tumbles down, down into the gorge, eaten by the storm. 

It’s not the first time he’s dreamt of life before the serum, either, of days spent inside trying to keep warm. Happy days, despite the hardships he and Bucky faced making ends meet. It didn’t help that Steve was a constant drain on whatever money they made, so much that they could barely afford small luxuries at Christmas. Life was simple then, even if it was difficult. Despite the furnace of warmth his new body has become, he still struggles to feel warm. 

_Stupid..._

He wakes up slowly very early in the morning; the clock on the nightstand tells him it’s five am. Steve’s mind wanders, and he watches the digital numbers climb all the way to six before finally sliding out of bed and rubbing his face. Tony’s Christmas party is today, and he isn’t sure if he wants to go. Part of his doubt lies with his obligation, as team leader, to attend and appear in good spirits. Steve stands up and straightens, rolling back his shoulders and lifting his chin to practice. He pulls his weight out of his heels as he walks to his dresser. There will be loud noises, laughter, and plenty of people to perform for, most of all his team. All he has to do is make his way through it, wait until everyone is drunk (except Natasha, around whom he will need to employ some stealth) before slipping away for his own quiet time. Then he can wallow as much as he likes with only himself to let down. 

In an effort to stay out of his own head and feel the part of the confident leader, Steve goes to the gym floor for his morning work-out. Nobody is there at this hour, even though he’s started later than usual, for which he’s grateful. The longer he has to gather himself before having to interact with other people, the better. 

After several hours of intense work-out, Steve drags himself back up to his room for a shower. He spends far longer than usual under the hot stream, trying to warm himself from the outside in. It doesn’t melt away the tight ice block in his breast bone, but it does make him feel more alert. Steve gives himself a shake as he dries off, shakes some sense into his head. 

It’s only late morning, and the party doesn’t start until lunch time. Desperate not to give himself the chance to be left alone with his own thoughts lest he’s unable to crawl free when the clock strikes twelve, he sits in bed to read a book. 

Steve’s belly knows it’s lunch before he does, grumbling angrily. That’s what he gets for not eating all day... Did he really forget? _Stupid..._ Steve puts his book down, grateful that at least he doesn’t need to kill time anymore. He curses himself for being so forgetful as he rummages through his clothes for something presentable to wear. He changes out of his sweats in favor of some tan slacks and a pressed grey shirt. Steve takes his time doing up the buttons and tucking it in, pulling a warm blue sweater over top. Then walks to the bathroom to comb his hair. 

He stands in front of the mirror and stares at himself, appraising his appearance. Though he looks pale and tired under the bathroom light, he knows the Christmas lights blinking in the darker ambience will hide that. Nobody will be looking too closely at him anyway – Tony knows how to throw a party, and the guests will be too busy having fun. 

Steve smooths out his shirt and puts on his shoes, walking out of his suite and into the hallway. He steps into the elevator, and takes a few deep breaths as he rises up to the common floor. Before the elevator stops and opens its doors, he can already hear the sounds of the party underway. Steve steps out right on time, but of course all the other Avengers and a few guests are already enjoying themselves. A huge neatly-decorated tree is set up in the corner, tables covered in food along the wall beside it, and a drink laden bar beside that. The room is still relatively light with the huge windows left open, the white flurry visible through them. 

The whole room is already full of cheerful, upbeat dance music. Those present are already carrying drinks, laughing and chatting together. They look over as the elevator doors slide shut behind him, trapping him here with a peaceful ding. 

Tony looks up from his conversation with Bruce and Clint by the bar, beckoning him over with a cheerful smile. Steve walks over and makes a smile as the inventor eagerly gathers him closer and shoves a plate of food at him. “You know, you’re allowed to arrive early to parties,” Tony says, passing a beer to Clint, who pops the top off and puts it in Steve’s hand. “Party times are only guidelines.” 

“Is this a universal rule, or a you-rule?” Steve asks, taking a sip of beer and wishing he could at least enjoy a buzz. Then again, the few times he actually got drunk before the serum, sometimes he ended up a giggly mess, other times somber and sulking. Nobody wants a sad drunk at a party. 

Tony shrugs. “The party doesn’t start until I get there anyway.” 

Steve’s little smile is genuine this time, and he eats a cracker covered in cream cheese and some sort of expensive sliced meat off Tony’s plate. He needs to start eating before he gets hangry, and has to fight that back along with everything else going on. 

“Also, where’s your Christmas jumper?” Tony demands, gesturing to his own, and the ones Bruce and Clint are wearing. All three of them are various loud combinations of red, green, and white, woven with various festive designs. Tony’s, of course, has an Iron-Man pattern on it, while Clint’s has a snowman wearing sunglasses, and Bruce’s is decorated with a snowflake smoking a joint, ‘Chill Out’ written above. 

“Was I... supposed to wear one?” Steve stares between them, his chest tightening irrationally. _Another modern thing I don’t know about... Was I supposed to? How was I supposed to know?_

Tony peers at him. “I sent one to your room. Didn’t you get it?” 

“No...? I didn’t look...” Steve shrugs apologetically. He must have missed it. 

“Hey, just teasing, don’t worry about it,” Tony waves a hand. 

“Come get some food before Thor eats it all,” Clint beckons him toward the tables, and Steve follows, noting the way they look at him strangely... Barely five minutes into the party, and already his masks are slipping. _Bang-up job, Rogers._ He loosens his shoulders and follows Clint, allowing his friend to fill a plate for him while trying not to look too much like a lost puppy that’s been rescued off the street. 

“I don’t know what these things are, but they’re good,” Clint drops a few pieces of toasted bread covered in sauces and cheeses and little vegetable garnishes onto Steve’s plate. “Billionaire’s Bruschetta, or something. And I expected more caviar, but Tony said that’s for people who want to _look_ rich, so he never bothers.” 

Steve smiles. “It’s not even that good.” Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find the table covered in pizza boxes. This is strangely organized for their usual Avengers gatherings, where take-out is spread haphazardly over every available surface, and drinks are mixed at random. 

Clint loads the plate with an assortment of food and leads him back into the fray, which has only become denser as the remainder of the guests arrive. People eating and drinking and laughing and chatting mingle around them. Clint quickly gets swept away, and Steve if left to wade to a quiet spot on an expensive leather couch to enjoy his late lunch-breakfast. He tries not to look as starved as he feels as he eats. 

Some people join him in one of many pockets within the party, sitting to talk about their families and work and how nice it is to have a break with them. Women in short dresses are eager to take up the spaces on either side of him. Steve does his best to join in, and though he knows these are people Tony trusts enough to invite to an exclusive Christmas party in Avengers tower, Steve’s not comfortable with their company. They’re nice enough, but too different. Different isn’t necessarily bad, given that the Avengers works as a team despite being comprised of people who are as different as different can be... But these are civilians, people who grew up with legends and posters and heroic war stories. There just isn’t an opportunity to be as natural as he’d like (not that he wants to be with his friends right now either), and it wouldn’t be that fair either. This is a party, not an intervention. 

Surprisingly, it’s easier to act a way he doesn’t at all feel around strangers. He smiles politely, chuckles when he’s supposed to at stories, offers to get drinks. It works out to be a great way to slip out of the conversation once he’s handed around the refills, freeing him from the couch and allowing him to slip into the crowd. The sky is already growing dark again, enhancing the atmosphere of the party, but Steve feels it only as a chance to go more easily unnoticed. He can’t shake the feeling he’s being watched constantly, though he knows that may be due to the fact that he wants so badly to not to be. 

Claustrophobia and a ringing in his ears quickly start to tighten his chest and drive a tremor up his spine, and out through his nerves like a poison. Steve reaches his threshold and slips two beers from the bar while Natasha has her back turned talking to some of the guests. He slithers away, trying to blend with the party while simultaneously plowing his way through it. It might not be his most subtle escape, but he has no time or energy to plan a stealthier route, simply bursting to get some fresh air. Luckily, he can move quickly without too much effort, hopping up the steps to the second level of the party that looks down on the first, then through a door tucked away in a corner and into a quiet corridor. The moment the door closes he breaks into a jog and gets into the elevator, leaving the sounds of the party below him. 

Steve travels all the way to the top of the tower, the quietest place he has access to. Even so high up, he can usually still hear the traffic below, but the snow dulls it. He can barely see one shining billboard here and there, but if he turns away, he can pretend he’s floating. Even in the darkness, there are no stars visible. Steve sighs and squints in the breeze, popping the top off both beers and resting one on the ledge surrounding the rooftop space. He leans forward just far enough that the bottle is in his peripheral, almost as if someone else could reach out and take a sip. Steve sighs and drink his own, tears gathering in the back of his throat. He sniffs and scratches the concrete barrier with his fingernail. 

The ground is so far down, so far he can’t even see it through the snow... Steve shivers and tries to do what he came up here to do: clear his head and pay tribute to his friend. He reaches out for the other beer and pours a little over the edge. He doesn’t like waste, and he’s not one for sentimental rituals, but he wants to do _something,_ even if it’s... stupid. There’s not much he _can_ do, anyway, other than drink and try to remember old Christmases sharing a hot drink mixed with a little alcohol to stave off the cold. Steve leans his forehead on his palm as his eyes well up, the tears stinging his face as they start to freeze on his skin. 

“Steven?” it’s the last of many calls he’s only just realized are directed at him. A hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps, spinning around with a yelp. Thor is standing there with his head lightly cocked, his neat hair blowing wildly behind him in the wind and a confused, concerned frown on his face. He’s wearing an enormous red sweater, which is somehow still snug on him, and covered in dancing reindeer stood on their back legs. Thor himself is wearing a pair of antlers. 

“Uh, hi,” Steve glances at the other beer bottle resting suspiciously beside him. “You, uh, snuck up on me.” 

“I apologize,” Thor regards him curiously with bright, perceptive eyes. “I thought you had surely heard my feet on this gravel, or me calling your name. But I am glad to see the party has not rendered you deaf.” 

“Sorry...” Steve rubs the label on the glass bottle nervously, glancing over Thor’s shoulder at the door back inside, where it’s warm. It’s really cold out here, and maybe if he can slip away, he can lose Thor in the party and escape back to his room. Thor doesn’t look like he’ll be easy to just wave away. 

“You must truly be trapped inside your head,” Thor gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder that lingers, squeezing to pull Steve closer. Steve leans back, but the demigod is so strong that he easily gathers Steve under his arm and picks up the other bottle of beer. “Come inside, my friend. Now is not the time, if any, to be standing alone staring into the abyss.” 

_That’s not what I was doing!_ Steve blushes even as he grabs Thor by the wrist to shake him off angrily, suddenly very defensive. “Then go back inside,” he snaps more aggressively than he means to. “I just want to be alone.” 

Thor holds up the other beer bottle. “I doubt that very much, my friend,” he says authoritatively, reaching out to take Steve by the bicep. “Now come inside.” 

“I can’t go back to the party,” Steve whines, weakly resisting as Thor starts to pull him back to the door. 

“We need not return, if that is your wish,” Thor replies easily, bringing them both inside and shutting the door behind them. “I know the crowds are not enjoyable for you.” 

“You were having a good time,” Steve protests. “Thor... go have fun. I just want to be alone. Please.” 

“You are ever the poor liar,” Thor won’t be stopped, _can’t_ be, pulling Steve into the elevator with him. He doesn’t press the button for the party floor, however. 

“Thor-” 

A large hand pats him firmly between the shoulder-blades. “At least allow me to make your drink more enjoyable,” Thor says. “It will warm you at least.” 

Steve clutches his beer, looking remorsefully at the one Thor has taken from him, but unable to deny that he’s cold, and that Thor’s body heat pressed firmly into him is welcome. The elevator doors slide open, and they’re on Steve’s floor. Thor leads him out, steering them into Steve’s room and pushing him onto the sofa in the sitting area. He sits down too and pulls a small metal flask from his pocket, wrapping his hand around Steve’s beer and guiding it closer so he can tip of some of the drink into the bottle. Their fingers touch, the rougher pads of Thor’s thicker ones brushing against the top of Steves smooth ones. 

“There, now drink,” Thor releases the bottle and picks up his own from between his knees, tipping his own portion of mystery liquor into it. He takes a swig, side-eying Steve while he does. 

Steve looks down into his bottle and sighs submissively. _What the hell..._ It seems foolish to continue to deny the company, so he swallows a mouthful. Immediately, the flavor is different. Stronger, warmer, better. The flavor is oaky and tart and fills his sinuses, tingling the back of his throat and all down his chest. It soaks into his ribs and up his neck to his head, filling his skull with a pleasant buzz. “Mmm...” he murmurs. 

“Better,” Thor wraps an arm around his shoulders and gives him a strong, rough hug. Not as rough as before though... 

It is. Steve has another drink, on the verge of sobbing with the realization that with Thor’s mystical Asgardian liquor, it looks as if he _can_ get drunk. And oh god, he wants it. He just wants to leave his own mind and submit to the mercy of substance. Shamefully. He’s better than this, surely... 

Looking at the remaining volume of the bottle, Steve can tell he’s going to need another dose of that Asgardian liquor if he wants to actually get drunk, though. Would Thor indulge him, if he asked? How honest would he have to be? Thor would understand, surely. 

As he thinks of a way to ask without drawing concern from his friend, Thor cuts off his thoughts. “Now that you appear to be seeing some sense, might you enlighten me as to why you’ve resigned yourself to the storm rather than enjoy the warmth of friends?” 

_You don’t pull punches, do you..._ Steve huffs humorlessly, though he’s grateful for the forwardness. The only thing worse than this would be if Thor were to dance around the issue, trying to coax information out while hiding his intentions. No, Thor makes himself known, managing to look wise despite the antlers. Heimdall, as he’s been described in many a reverent tale, may be able to see everything that occurs in the Nine Realms, but Thor can see into souls. 

“Just...” Steve shrugs and curls around his drink as he looks for words. He leaves a lengthy pause in the hopes of finding words, but it quickly becomes clear he’s not going to find any. 

“The past clings to your heels, drawing you from the present,” Thor says. “You would rather the company of ghosts than those who are here with you now.” 

“Thor-!” Steve looks up, stricken by the forwardness, and the twisting in his chest. It’s not like that at all. 

“The dead should be honored,” Thor says, standing up and raising his drink. “Not sought after for companionship. Would you allow me to raise a toast, Steven? I would be honored to toast warriors my Captain used to fight alongside.” 

Steve stares up at Thor for far too long, agape, until a hand reaches down. He takes it, and the thunder god pulls him to his feet. Steve knocks his bottle against Thor’s. 

Thor grins. “To those no longer with us,” he says. “May we see our loved-ones once again when this life is over, but until then, enjoy it to the fullest. May they greet us at the gates of Valhalla when we have walked our paths.” 

Steve mumbles his agreement, and shares a long drink alongside his friend, tears pricking his eyes. Surprisingly, they’re easier to stuff down. He swallows roughly and lowers his arm, hanging his head under its weight. “Thanks...” he mumbles. Better than a few drops of beer flung morosely into the wind. 

Thor finishes his drink and puts the empty bottle down on the coffee table, leaning forward on one foot and offering his arms. “Those we love should be celebrated, not mourned,” he says, “but you should not feel ashamed for missing them.” 

Steve finishes his drink too, and takes one step closer before collapsing into the hug. Thor’s arms wrap around him and hold him, a strong thumb rubbing into his shoulder. Steve sighs and doesn’t bother with trying to stay balanced, completely held up by Thor’s soft yet immovable frame. Soft isn’t the right word, exactly, not when muscles larger that Steve’s own serum-induced ones are firm under the knitted sweater. Yet the dips and valleys of Thor’s body make it easy for Steve to find a comfortable arrangement to slot into, and the embrace is tender. Thor’s jovial tone is mixed with a sadness of his own and they share this moment. 

“You got any more of that drink?” Steve finally mumbles bashfully into Thor’s shoulder. 

“Though I wish for you be liberated of what weighs you, it may be better if you can remember the evening,” Thor says, drawing apart and gazing down into Steve’s eyes. There’s a soft pink and a pleased smile swelling his cheeks. His hands linger, and Steve finds his own lingering too. 

“I...” Steve swallows again. Thor wants to have a good time, and it’s not fair that he’s here instead of out there. Steve plants his hands on Thor’s chest, but he can’t bring himself to apply any pressure in an attempt to separate them. “You should... you should go have fun,” he says, looking down as he says it. It’s selfish to expect his friend to stay here with him. 

“I’m happy here,” Thor says, nudging his hand under Steve’s chin so he can re-establish eye-contact. “I confess I was hoping to enjoy the party with you, but this is nice.” 

“What... what are you saying?” Steve asks, a blush of his own crawling up the back of his sweater. 

“That your company would pleasure me,” Thor explains calmly. “Is that such an inconceivable concept?” 

“N-no,” Steve stammers. “No, but... I don’t know if I’d make much company...” 

“I disagree,” Thor says. “If you truly wish to be on your own, then I shall allow you privacy, but I would be very happy to remain here with you. If you like, of course. I wish only to see you less burdened.” 

“I...” he already feels better. But wouldn’t Thor rather be at the party than sulking here with Steve? 

“You are allowed to have fun,” Thor lowers his hands to Steve’s waist, lowering his voice as he does. “I’m certain your old friend would rather you enjoy yourself rather than suffer in solitude. I am certain that would honor him.” 

Thor’s right: Bucky _would_ rather Steve enjoy himself instead of.... instead of whatever Steve’s been doing all day. “O-okay,” he agrees weakly, though he feels it with more conviction now that he’s submitted to the offer. 

“If it pleases you, we can return to the party,” Thor says. “But if not, then we can stay here instead.” The demigod stares down hopefully, awaiting an answer. 

“I want to stay here, with you,” Steve breathes without having to give it any thought. “Will you? We can... we can play a game, or something? I have games. There’s a pack of cards-” 

Thor has drawn something from his back pocket and it holding it over their heads. Steve looks up to see a frond of mistletoe in his friend’s hand, and his mouth remains open as his blush deepens to an unbearable heat. Thor is still holding him around the waist, waiting patiently. “Some of your Midgardian traditions are perplexing, but this one makes sense,” he explains. “You lead the one you wish to kiss beneath it, if Tony is to be trusted, when there are words to say but you aren’t sure you can express them?” 

Steve gapes. Trying desperate to process what’s happening. Surely Thor, with all his perception and directness, would be the one to know exactly what to say, but he’s stumbling over it now, a quiver Steve's never heard before introduced to his deep voice. 

“I thought it may be easier to bring the mistletoe to you rather than bring you to it,” Thor goes on, a light, nervous smile on his lips. “And I wagered you would prefer to be away from the crowds...” 

Those are astute and very correct assumptions. Steve can only nod mutely. 

At the continued silence, Thor’s eyebrow upturns and his arm starts to sag. “I did not wish to overwhelm you, or take advantage of your vulnerability, Captain, I apologize... I hoped the drink would ease your troubles, but I wanted your answer to be a sober one... If it is a no, then of course-” 

“No,” Steve breathes. “I mean, no, it’s not a no. You just...” _You’re one slick bastard. That's all. And I’m..._ “I... yes.” 

Thor peers at him, confused. 

“Yes, kiss me,” Steve says, turning his palms off Thor’s sweater so he can grab it and pull. 

Thor throws down the plant so he can clutch his other hand behind Steve’s head and rub needily as they kiss. Steve quickly lets go so they can get closer, wrapping his arms around Thor’s back instead and climbing the steep incline of intensity of the kiss. 

They’ve never been this close before; Thor smells like fresh rain in a pine forest, tastes like it too. His hands roam up and down, quickly liberating Steve’s neatly tucked shirt and sweater so they can slide up, and Steve finds his hands sliding under Thor’s sweater too. He digs his nails into the soft skin of Thor’s waist, and the demigod shudders with pleasure, pushing his tongue deeper in return. He wraps his hand around Steve’s belt and pulls their hips together, freeing them from the kiss just enough that they can look each other in the eyes. 

“I dreamed of this,” Thor murmurs against Steve’s lips, sliding his thumb under the belt to slide it from the loop and work the strap through the buckle. “I hoped to find an opportunity to ask you for your bed. Would you? Lay with me?” 

“You dreamed about it?” Steve huffs as they both start to wander toward the bedroom at the same time, dancing their feet as Thor backs up and Steve follows, not allowing any distance to be formed between them. 

“Fantasized, sleeping and waking,” Thor smiles, pulling the belt through the buckle and then sliding it free of the pant loops. He casts it aside and reaches backward, fumbling for the doorknob. Steve grabs it for him and opens the door, and they both stumble toward the bed, while Steve goes for the zipper on Thor’s pants. 

It seems fairly moot now, but Steve feels Thor deserves to be given as much verbal enthusiasm as he’s given Steve. “I’d like that,” he agrees, pushing Thor against the bed. “I’d like that a lot.” 

Thor grabs him by the waistband and under the arm, spinning around and throwing Steve onto the bed, lunging on top of him. “Would you allow me to take you away from here for as long as you can sustain?” Thor kicks off his shoes as he slides Steve’s shoes off. “I want you to be at peace. You deserve it, and I wish to give it to you.” 

“You’d do that?” Steve asks, though he’s already sprawled on his back, Thor already undressing him – clearly, Thor is up for it. 

“If you wish it,” Thor crawls up the bed, slithering between Steve’s legs and leaning over him. 

That sounds like just what he needs. “It’s been a while,” Steve swallows, gripping the back of Thor’s head, enjoying the softness of the demigod’s windswept yet somehow still perfect hair. 

“I will see to it,” Thor reassures, diving into a punctuating kiss. 

“What about you?” Steve gets out between the brief gaps in the kiss. 

Thor hardly leaves him space to speak, pushing farther. “There are plenty more days in the year,” he reassures. “You give endlessly. Perhaps it is time to receive the care you deserve. I wish to give you at least some of that. It would please me a great deal.” 

A god wants to serve him. Steve arches under the rough texture of Thor’s thumb tickling the smooth, sensitive skin of his lower back. “It would?” His breathless reply turns into a squeeze as Thor slides his hand around under Steve’s shirt and grabs a nipple. “Promise?” 

“On whatever you like,” Thor grins, sliding his hands out then back up so he can undo Steve’s shirt buttons. “On Asgard, on Mjolnir, on your Christmas deity Santa Claus.” 

Steve laughs as he wiggles out of his sweater and lets Thor pull his shirt off. “He’s not exactly a deity...” 

“Why are there so many shrines and monuments of him, then?” Thor’s smile brightens too, unzipping Steve’s pants. “And ballads?” 

“He brings people presents,” Steve explains. “To kids, mostly.” He lifts his hips so Thor can wrestle down his pants, then lifts his legs so they can be pulled all the way off. 

“That explains his popularity,” Thor says, throwing the pants on the floor and hurriedly working down his own. 

Steve reaches up and plucks the antlers off Thor’s head, setting them on the nightstand. A shiver passes through his body, but Thor is quickly on him, sharing body heat while he takes off the rest of his clothes. The cold doesn’t last long, especially since Steve is already burning with anticipation. The winds just outside the window pick up, as Thor undulates his body into Steve’s and resumes his kisses. He pushes his hips into Steve’s and lifts up, then pushes down against, his abs rippling and his thighs squeezing against Steve’s. It’s not much of anything, just their cocks rubbing together, skin on skin, but it feels good on its own. It’s a promise of more to come, especially the hot kisses. 

“So tense,” Thor murmurs, rubbing his hand up Steve’s side to cup a breast. He squeezes it and kneads the muscle, rubbing around the nipple but not quite on it. “Touch me, so that I don’t have to take my hands off you.” He turns his hips forward. 

“Looks like you’re mostly there already,” Steve moans around Thor’s tongue, but he obliges and reaches down, taking Thor by the cock and squeezing. It’s a mighty handful, already tense in his palm but responding with a twitch as the demigod grows harder still. Thor quivers and rocks into Steve’s hand, sucking on Steve’s ear lobe and tickling the skin around it with his beard while his fingers continue to tease the skin around one nipple. Steve does his duty and squeezes again, twisting his wrist and drawing back, then sliding down to the base before repeating he motion. He works his thumb over the head. 

“You have such beautiful hands,” Thor says, shifting in Steve’s grip and finally deciding now is the time to take hold of that nipple in his fingers and properly tend to it. “And what you do with them is marvelous. Almost enough to allow you to do with me as you will.” 

“Almost?” Steve gives another squeeze and smirks as it drives a shiver through Thor’s huge frame. 

“Fortunately, my will-power is mighty,” Thor grins back, sliding his hips back and freeing himself from Steve’s hand. He grabs Steve’s ribs and runs his hands down the soldier’s side, kissing and tickling with his beard all the way down the center groove of Steve's torso. “Any man even slightly less than I would have long since caved.” 

Steve opens his mouth to reply, but is saved the bother of actually coming up with anything when Thor takes a nipple in his mouth, inciting a wobbly cry of pleasure instead. 

“The noises you make are even more wonderful than I envisioned, my Captain,” Thor manages to say around a mouthful of chest. He swipes his tongue around the nipple and rubs his lips across either side of it, stimulating the sensitive nerve endings. Another roll of his tongue sends a bolt of electricity straight to the depths of Steve’s chest and into his spine, where it spreads to his finger tips and tingles. Thor looks up at him, nestled between Steve’s legs and arched over his chest, his blue eyes brighter and bluer than usual. Sparks leap between his fingers as he presses on both nipples at once. 

“Not fair!” Steve shrieks in surprise, his body rolling off the bed and pressing into Thor’s. “Someone will hear!” 

“What of it?” Thor scoops his hand under Steve’s waist and runs the other down one thigh, drawing the leg around himself. “Though I doubt anyone would hear. We are several floors below, and the music is loud. Think nothing of them. There should soon be nothing left in your mind but me.” 

“Yes,” Steve begs, wrapping his hand around the back of Thor’s head. “Please.” He doesn’t want to think about anything but this, for once. His own cock is most of the way erect, rubbing on Thor’s belly. 

“It is what you want?” Thor teases, laying Steve back onto the bed so he can lean over and pick his pants off the floor, pulling something out of the pocket. 

“Take care of me,” Steve begs again. “Please, Thor.” He lets his arms flop to either side of him, opening his body to whatever Thor has in mind. 

“Very well, if you insist,” Thor pulls a bottle of lube out of his pocket and throws his pants back on the floor, popping the top off with his thumb. 

_Of course_ _Thor would carry a bottle of lube in his pocket in public..._ “You brought your own?” 

“I thought I should be prepared,” Thor lubes his hands and discards the bottle on the bed, wedging himself under Steve’s hips and lubing himself first. “If my plans came to fruition, I did not want to stall the lovemaking to look for supplies.” 

Smart. Thor seems to have planned this out rather well. He wonders when Tony was consulted, before or during the party, about the mistletoe. Does Tony know about Thor’s full intentions? 

Doesn’t matter. Steve couldn’t care less as Thor slides a finger inside him and rolls it around, looking for the right spot. Another hand rests on his belly, Thor lightly pressing his finger into the dip above Steve’s belly-button and sending a jolt of electricity into it. Another is soon to follow as Thor slips a second finger inside and stimulates that, too. Steve bends, momentarily numb and the room bursting with a pulse of light from Thor’s body. Sparks crackle under his skin, creating beautiful patterns with a life of their own. 

Thor reaches all the way up for a kiss while using his power, gathering his hand behind Steve’s shoulders to bring him close enough. The jolt the thunder god sends through him travels from bottom to top, through his core and into his muscles, radiating him with deep pleasure and melting the tension with each wave. Steve knows it could hurt a whole lot with the wrong dose, but Thor is so in control, sending just the right amount to be powerful, yet still enjoyable. There can’t be any other sensation on Earth that feels as good as this. 

Thor does not allow him to become complacent, adding a third finger. He lets go of Steve’s shoulders to take his cock instead, rubbing lube all over it before tapping it with his finger. One pulse of electricity travels down it and into his lower body, melting everything from the belly-button down. It feels so good that he doesn’t realize he’s come until he opens his eyes and sees it splattered across Thor’s stomach. 

“Already?” Thor teases with a smug grin. 

_What do you mean ‘already’!?_ Steve wants to shriek it, but his mouth is too loose. It’s quickly filled with Thor as the demigod climbs up him and kisses him down from the first of what Steve can only assume will be many, many orgasms. 

“That was hardly anything,” Thor taunts. “An appetizer, if you will. Though already the results are promising. Never has anyone responded like you have.” 

Steve wonders if a normal human would even survive this. Has Thor ever done this for another human, or only on other Asgardians? Steve has a hard time believing that Thor’s own species wouldn’t do as well as Steve, but then, the serum makes him incredibly sensitive. It’s difficult for his body to get used to anything when it’s constantly healing and regenerating. He doesn’t get callouses, at least not yet, and he tightens back up like he’s never taken it in the ass before. 

Thor is remarking on that very fact as Steve comes down from his first orgasm, and the demigod goes back in with his fingers. “So tight,” he murmurs, not spending long with the fingers this time. He lifts Steve by the hips and slides under, touching the tip of his cock against the hole. The contact is very different from just fingers, Thor’s power throbbing into every extremity and across into Steve’s. 

Thor has definitely been going easy on him, but the build-up was good, because Steve’s ready for it now. As ready as he can be, as Thor slides inside him, filling him bit by bit. The loosening helped, but not enough to take away from the snugness of their fit. Steve clenches around Thor’s cock once it’s pushed all the way in, shivering with pleasure. It becomes a surprised shout as Thor draws out almost all the way and slams back in with ferocity. Again, Thor does it, his whole body dancing with tendrils of blue light that Steve feels through their connection, all the way to his toes. He wraps his legs around Thor’s ribs and squeezes, giving feedback in return. His body is so big, but Thor is bigger still, stronger. Uncrushable, and brimming with vigor that rivals Steve’s. 

Steve can’t deny he hasn’t thought about it a few times himself, what Thor would be capable of. One lonely day after a battle in the streets, when he’d seen a couple huddling together, he’d suddenly wondered if there was ever hope for a sexual relationship with anyone without the risk of killing someone. Even if the mechanics were to work, nobody would ever be able to keep up. Steve needs so much more to feel satisfied that it would be impossible, draining. Couples have overcome harder obstacles, but Steve always wondered what that would be like for a partner... Then Thor had dropped from the sky and patted him on the shoulder heartily, reminding him that Captain America wasn't the strongest being on Earth anymore. Of course he’d thought about it, what it might be like... 

This is far better than anything he’d conjured in his mind. 

Thor thrusts again and wraps his hand around Steve’s cock, eagerly squeezing until the soldier is hard and on the verge of another orgasm. With a well-timed pulse that flows through Thor’s hand, Steve comes again in eager spurts, and with a hearty shout from deep in his chest. 

Thor, too is trembling, clutching a handful of Steve’s waist. “May I come? In you?” he asks, and Steve nods without contemplation. In a moment, Thor crackles again and shudders from deep in his core, quickly filling Steve with hot fluid. 

With a sigh, Thor draws out and flops on top of Steve, wrapping him in a tight hug and kissing the side of his pec. Both of them are panting, climbing down from a state of euphoria that Steve feels may carry him through the week, perhaps even the month, though he hopes Thor will fuck him again before then. Despite his tingling body, Steve manages to lift his arms and wrap them clumsily around Thor’s shoulders. 

“Oh, god,” he finally manages, and Thor lifts off to look at him. They both glance at the clock and find that it’s only five pm. They look back at each other. 

\-- 

After many rounds, more rounds than Steve thought was possible, they lie together in the disheveled sheets, panting and covered in sweat and lube and each other’s fluids. Thor gathers Steve in his arms and rolls them onto the other side of the bed where the sheets are cool. 

“Holy shit,” Steve pants when he remembers how to speak, holding tightly onto Thor’s shoulders. 

“Better?” Thor asks, holding Steve to his chest and kissing his ear. 

“Oh god, yeah,” Steve heaves. He could stay here forever. His mind feels clearer, and along with it his body. This beats getting drunk. 

“We should shower, then,” Thor suggests, stroking back Steve’s forelock and kissing his brow. 

“Okay,” Steve agrees, but when he makes no move to get up, Thor simply readjusts his grip and rolls out of bed, carrying Steve with him to the bathroom. Steve quickly wraps his arms around Thor’s neck and holds still, letting his legs down only as Thor lowers him to turn on the water. 

They stand under the stream together, Steve content to rest against Thor’s chest while the demigod washes his back and hair. He’s encouraged to turn around and lean back so that Thor can wash his chest next, cleaning away all the evidence of their escapade. The sex may be over, but Thor still gives, seeing to Steve first before himself. Having already embraced the offering, Steve lets it happen without complaint, content to be held and cared for while he slowly recovers and is able to take control of his limbs again. 

Thor washes himself while still managing to hold onto Steve at the same time, as if this were an everyday occurrence. _What if it could be..._ Could it? Could they do that again, and again, and again? The other way too, he hopes, because he wants to give back, show the same reverence that was shown to him. But later. Later, when he’s finished fully enjoying what’s being given. He owes Thor that, at least. 

“You are magnificent,” Thor whispers in his ear, no longer charged with sexual hunger, but deep and reverent nevertheless. Calming. 

Steve smiles, wishing he could sing Thor’s praises with just as much eloquence, but still unable to fully voice what that did for him. He wants to express his gratitude, but Thor doesn’t seem to mind the silence, content just to admire. Perhaps he can see everything Steve wishes to say – Thor seems not to need words to gather the information he needs. 

“I believe the sweater Tony gave you is in the front room,” Thor suggests, shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around Steve’s shoulders. 

“You want to go back to the party?” Steve asks, stepping out and drying himself off. 

“I hoped you might dance with me,” Thor replies, drying off too. He wraps the towel around his head and gives his hair a rub. 

“I... I don’t know how to dance.” 

Thor looks up, pulling the towel from his head and letting his long hair tumble around his shoulders. “Oh! Then I will teach you. You will be good at it,” he promises with a bright smile, leaving the towel on the counter and walking to the door. “Come! The night is far too young to retire just yet, and I confess I am hungry.” 

Steve’s hungry too. He gives his own hair a rub and follows Thor out to gather up their clothes. Changing the bed-spread can wait. 

They pull on their shirts and pants, Steve forgoing his plain blue sweater once his shirt is tucked back in. When he looks up, Thor is proudly admiring him, back in his festive sweater. Steve smiles and walks over, right into Thor’s welcoming arms. “Almost forgot this,” he reaches past and takes the antlers from the nightstand, combing Thor’s hair with his fingers before sliding on the headband. “There.” 

“Perfect,” Thor smiles fondly back. “Now for yours.” 

Steve’s not sure what to expect, but he allows Thor to bring him back to the lounge area, where a package wrapped in brown paper awaits on the shelf by the door. With the huge label printed in sparkly red writing that reads ‘STEVE’, Steve’s not sure how he missed it to begin with. Oh well, it’s not too late. Steve unwraps the parcel and holds up the sweater. It’s knit in blue and white, and it reads ‘ _Kiss me, I’ve been a good boy_ ’ on the front. Before he can make any comments, Thor is taking it away and slipping it over his head. Steve puts his arms through the sleeves, and the minute it’s fully on, Thor takes him by the waist. 

“If you insist,” he says, and kisses Steve’s warmly on the mouth. Steve smiles and kisses back, standing up on his toes to get a better grip around Thor’s neck. 

When both of them are satisfied, Steve willingly follows Thor into the hallway, hand-in-hand. Since when were those garlands hung up along the walls...? Steve holds on to Thor’s hand and they don’t let go until the elevator doors slide open and let them back out into the party. 

The night is still in full swing, the music still playing cheery tunes, the lights blinking steady patterns across the room and the people in it. Now that the sky is completely dark, the colors stand out more brightly, shining off happy faces and dancing bodies. The food table is still there, still covered in plenty of snacks to keep everyone filled long into the night. Some of the empty plates have already been cleared away and replaced with boxes of pizza. Thor heads right over, sliding a plate into Steve’s hands and loading it up before making up his own. There's nothing like rigorous sex to work up an appetite... Steve’s stomach is so empty is feels like he’s been out on a mission all day. 

“Hey, you’re back.” They both turn mid-mouthful to see Tony there. The inventor proudly appraises Steve’s sweater and grins wickedly between their faintly damp hair. “Got lost in the blizzard?” 

Thor laughs heartily. “Hardly,” he says. “We spent a little time in the snow, and then went to look for Steven’s Christmas sweater.” 

“And played a game of hide-and-seek while you were gone?” Tony tries, but he gets nothing in return, and it’s too dark for him to tell that Steve is blushing deeply, trying not to laugh lest he choke on his pizza. 

_We played hide-the-something, that’s for sure..._

“How goes the party, my friend?” Thor asks. 

“It goes great,” Tony leads them away from the food table and toward the bar. “And it goes even better now that you guys are back. We saved you some egg nog.” 

“What is egg nog?” Thor asks, happily following. He wraps his free hand around Steve’s arm and stays close. “I know of nog, and of eggs, but I cannot fathom how one might make them into one agreeable concoction.” 

“Midgard invention,” Tony says proudly, reaching over the bar to pull a carton from the mini-fridge. He opens the top and hands it over. “It’s sweet, you’ll like it, I promise.” 

Thor takes the carton before Tony can grab a glass and boldly has a sip without any deliberation. His eyes light up immediately and he passes the carton to Steve. “It is indeed very good,“ he agrees. “Midgard, though strange, has yet to make a beverage that is not delicious.” 

Steve has a sip and gives the carton back to Thor, who pulls the flask back out of his pocket and tips the remainder into the drink. He gives it a swirl and has another sip, smiling proudly at his discovery. He gives it to Steve to try. 

It is _so_ good. And now that Steve’s been sober for this time with Thor, he doesn’t mind the idea of getting drunk. Thor doesn’t seem to mind either, flashing a knowing wink when Tony looks away for a split second. Steve’s not sure he could trust himself to look after himself tonight, but it’s good to know that Thor is here to watch out for him, take care of him even in the more subtle ways. 

“Let me try some,” Tony reaches for the carton, but Thor easily lifts it out of reach. 

“I fear not, Mortal,” he says regretfully. “Your system will not be able to handle Asgardian liquor. Unless you wish to languish for days with the worst hangover of your life.” 

Tony’s eyes light up with challenge, but he backs down for now and sighs, following them back into the midst of the party. It’s best to keep a close eye and an even closer grip on that carton until the mixture is gone. 

“Steve! You’re back,” Clint approaches and joins them, Bruce and Natasha at his side. “And Thor. I see you found your sweater.” 

Steve laughs bashfully and nods, following the group over to an empty section of seats where they can all sit together. He sets his food in his lap, and Thor takes the seat beside him, pressing their thighs together. Unbothered by what the others might think, Steve leans his shoulder into Thor’s as he eats and laughs with them, and shares the carton of egg-nog. 

By the time the drink is gone, Steve feels lighter, which is useful, because Thor is holding down his hands and offering a dance. Steve looks up into Thor’s hopeful eyes and takes them, pulled to his feet among the encouragements of his friends. While drink is not so good at improving sex, it certainly improves Steve’s ability to relax and let his body sink into the rhythm of the song without being so caught up on his own awkwardness. Dancing has never been a skill of his, but on Thor’s arm he doesn’t care at all. 

“Place your hands here,” Thor instructs, pink himself from the festivities, yet present enough to guide them both. He rests one of Steve’s hands on his shoulder and clasps the other, Thor placing his own around Steve’s waist and pulling him a little deeper into the throng of people dancing to the happy trumpet tune. 

The music isn’t that bad, actually, nothing too electronic, yet up-beat enough to keep spirits high and toes tapping. 

“Okay...” Steve shifts his weight, looking up into Thor’s fond smile. The demigod looks over the moon. 

“Simply relax, and follow my lead,” he says confidently, sliding one foot forward and to the side. Steve follows suit by sliding the corresponding foot back and to the side the same amount. 

It helps that it’s not just Steve who’s drunk, but anyone else around them who might care. People certainly take notice, but they continue dancing around them, too giddy to stop. The pair move much slower through them, while still in time with the music. 

Thor steps them in an easy circle, loose in the hips, doing a little half-step and a hop in the middle. Steve follows, letting his muscles relax, though that’s not very hard given how loose he already is from his combination of sex and electrotherapy. He tries the little half-step, boldly sliding it in while Thor completes their next turn. Proudly, Thor lets go of Steve’s wrist and twirls him under their woven hands. 

“Your turn,” Steve laughs, lifting his arm so Thor can spin under it. Thor laughs too, ducking far enough under their arms not to knock off his antlers and taking Steve by the waist again to turn him in a swift circle before swiftly gaining pace. And Steve follows, remembering a long time ago when swing was popular. He remembers one of the earliest double-dates Bucky took him on, and watching other couples flying around the dance floor at speeds he could never dream of achieving without giving himself an asthma attack. One couple in particular were excellent dancers, their movements exuberant yet controlled at the same time. They would throw their legs out, spin in circles and jump over each other in time with the music, sometimes close together with both hands woven together, other times farther apart to dance side-by-side with identical footwork. 

Steve doesn’t remember any of their moves well enough to try any, but maybe if he just goes with the rhythm and what feels right, he can manage. He’s doing better than expected already, mirroring what Thor does and letting the more competent demigod decide how fast they go, and where. Thor is a wonderful dancer, but that’s to be expected, given he’s a prince, and so coordinated. Steve wouldn’t have expected anything else. And what a pleasure it is to be in Thor’s arms, laughing freely. The drink helps, but it's not the source of his pleasure. 

“Wonderful Steven!” Thor remarks, lacing their fingers on both hands and leaning back, then pulling them back together and releasing one hand. They open apart, still locked tightly by one hand, and Thor guides their footwork. One hop in time with the first off-beat of the bar, then another to catch up to the next full one, then a kick in opposite direction, held together by their grip. As their legs come back down, Thor gives a stronger tug and they naturally end up turning back toward each other, only Thor rolls Steve up in their arms and dips him down before pulling him up again and jumping right into another set of footwork with both hands laced. One-two hop, feet apart, another little hop, one foot behind, then apart again. They’re fully in time with the music now, and Steve is so in the rhythm that he doesn’t struggle at all to keep up with Thor’s guidance. Couples and individuals swap out as they grow tired, but they don’t, neither of them the slightest out of breath. 

Thor is clearly having the time of his life, his skill on display now that they’ve moving faster and more naturally, and Steve is able to follow without the need for as much help. They end up side-by-side again, hand-in-hand, arms swinging as they follow where their instincts take them. There’s no way this is the first time Thor’s ever done this dance, and Steve doubts it’s an Asgardian one either. _Have you been practicing?_ A quick look around amidst a spin shows him that nobody else is dancing quite like Thor is, so these might not be modern techniques. 

Who knows? Dance is a timeless medium. Or something. Steve abandons the thought and allows himself to thrown sideways, then pulled back into another spin. Thor peers over him for a few seconds before unwinding him and drawing them back together for a series of quick but well-placed steps, their feet in perfect sync. They let go for a split second toward the end of a bar, and Thor flips him over his shoulder, pivoting as Steve lands on his feet to take him in his arms again. Enamored, Steve stares speechless as he’s taken back into Thor’s strong embrace. One song fades into the next, but they lose no momentum, swiftly finding their rhythm once more. 

Is that Fred Astaire...? It sounds a little like him...It sounds like he’s had a makeover, the grainy music of the thirties only complemented by the newer, crisper instruments played alongside it. The pace is faster than he remembers, but it suits him. 

_“Heaven, I’m in heaven._   
_And my hearts beats so that I can hardly speak.”_

They join hands again, pulling forward and back as they hop and step around the dance floor. It’s not so hard now that he’s got the hang of it. Most of it is the same move, with some half-steps or a hop in between as the rhythm requires. And Thor is easy to follow, an allure about him that wills Steve’s body to keep up and match the energy. He hardly remembers the drink in his system, having probably long metabolized it by now seeing how vigorously they’ve been dancing. 

_“And I seem to find the happiness I seek,_   
_when we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.”_

They need no words, not when Thor spins Steve toward him and lets go, ducking a little to allow Steve to roll over his back and end up on the other side. 

They join hands and watch each other’s smiles as they match their footwork almost without looking. Then Thor pulls Steve in and tosses him to the other arm, dipping him down and yanking him back up so they can leap straight into the next bar. 

_“Heaven, I’m in heaven,_   
_and the cares that hung around me through the week,_   
_Seem to vanish like a gambler’s lucky streak,_   
_when we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.”_

The night couldn’t last long enough. They easily out-dance everyone else at the party, those who need to rest standing back to watch while others take their place. The floor is never empty. 

It’s a shame when the party eventually ends around six am, weary guests sleeping draped over furniture or sprawled on the floor. Finally, after at least five hours of dancing, Steve is exhausted, leaning into Thor as the demigod leads them into the elevator, stepping over slumbering bodies. Thor is weary himself, but not too weary to scoop Steve off his feet once they’re free of watching eyes. 

“See? I knew you would make a fine dancing partner,” he smiles drowsily and kisses Steve’s forehead. “You have done your realm proud.” 

Steve chuckles and wraps his arms around Thor’s neck, letting his head fall into the demigod’s shoulder and his eyelids droop as he’s carried through the tower. “I had a good teacher. Where’d you learn to dance like that?” 

“Dancing is a skill necessary of a prince,” Thor explains, walking out of the elevator and into the quiet halls of his floor. “But I learned of your earlier Earth music with the help of Jarvis and some instructional videos. Luckily, many things are well-recorded on your planet, and it was an easy dance to learn.” 

“You looked up period dances?” Steve opens his eyes and looks up. “For me?” 

“I wanted you to feel in your element,” Thor smiles back. “Though I have confidence you would have learned any dance presented to you in just as short a time.” 

“I had a good time,” Steve smiles brightly, warmed with gratefulness to his toes. “Thank you... For everything. Did you have a good time too?” 

“That I did,” Thor agrees, letting go of Steve’s shoulders to open the door. They’re in Thor’s suite instead, where they won’t have to worry about changing the sheets before going to bed. _Smart._ Thor carries him right to the bedroom and sets him on the duvet, bending down to take his face and kiss him softly. “One of the best nights in many centuries,” he says quietly. “I promise.” 

“Good,” Steve smiles, taking off his sweater while Thor helps him with his pants. They undress much slower than before, and they don’t bother with putting any more on this time either, curling straight under the covers, with no barriers between their bodies. Warmth seeps through their contact, and Steve happily allows himself to be wrapped in a strong arm as his tired body sinks into the mattress. In a few hours, he’ll have recovered in time for breakfast, and to help clean up, but until then there’s time to enjoy the rest of the stubborn winter darkness. 

“Merry Christmas,” Thor murmurs, kissing the back of Steve’s neck. 

“Merry Christmas,” Steve smiles, bringing the hand on his chest to his lips to kiss. He falls asleep to Thor humming Fred Astaire as they fall asleep, the demigod rubbing his knuckles up and down Steve’s sternum. For once, his reality doesn’t feel like a dream, and he’s happy that he won’t wake up from it. 


End file.
